Chapter 90: The Final Stage

The Olympic Village was a hive of activity, buzzing with energy and excitement. Athletes from around the world filled the expansive grounds, each donning the colors and flags of their nations. The air was charged with anticipation, every corner of the village filled with the chatter of competitors exchanging greetings, teams preparing for the greatest show on earth, and coaches giving last-minute advice.

Rohan stepped out of the bus that had brought him from the airport, his eyes widening as he took in the sight. It was finally real. The towering structures of the Village, the vibrant banners, the Olympic rings standing tall in the distance—it was everything he had imagined and more. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, a mix of awe and determination.

He had made it. Despite all the setbacks, despite the long and winding road that had led him here, Rohan Singh was standing in the Olympic Village, an athlete about to compete in the pinnacle of all sports events. It felt surreal, as though he were walking through a dream. But this wasn't a dream. This was reality.

Rohan looked around, spotting athletes from every imaginable sport—swimmers, gymnasts, basketball players, sprinters, and marathoners—each representing the best of their countries. The Indian delegation, with their familiar blue uniforms, stood out against the sea of colors, and Rohan felt a surge of pride as he joined them, his own uniform emblazoned with the tricolor of his homeland.

As he walked toward the dormitories designated for Team India, his bag slung over his shoulder, Rohan allowed himself a moment to simply soak in the atmosphere. He passed by groups of athletes laughing and talking, some lounging in the communal areas, others focused and intense as they prepared for their events. The air buzzed with a palpable mix of excitement and nerves, the kind that only the Olympics could generate.

It was an environment unlike any other—a place where dreams were made and broken, where the weight of expectations from nations collided with the personal ambitions of athletes who had trained their entire lives for this one chance. This was where legends were born, where the history of sports was rewritten every four years.

The enormity of it all hit Rohan as he approached the entrance to the dormitory building. He paused for a moment, looking up at the banner that read, *"Welcome to the Olympic Games."* Just beyond those doors lay the final stage of his journey—the stage he had dreamed of standing on since he was a young boy, running barefoot in the fields of his village.

But it wasn't just his dream anymore. He was carrying the hopes and dreams of an entire nation. He could almost feel the weight of it pressing down on him, but he straightened his shoulders, lifting his chin. He had worked too hard to get here. He had pushed through pain, fear, and self-doubt to earn this moment. Now, it was time to embrace it.

Taking a deep breath, Rohan stepped forward and entered the building.

---

The Indian dormitory was bustling with energy when Rohan walked in. He was immediately greeted by familiar faces—teammates from the athletics squad, a few athletes from other sports, and coaches who had been with him throughout his journey. There was a shared sense of camaraderie, an understanding that they were all part of something much bigger than themselves.

"Rohan!" a voice called out, and he turned to see Neha, one of the top Indian sprinters, waving at him. She had a wide smile on her face, her eyes bright with excitement. "Welcome to the Village, champ!"

Rohan grinned, walking over to join her and a small group of athletes gathered in the common area. Neha clapped him on the back, her grin never fading. "How does it feel to finally be here?"

"Amazing," Rohan admitted, looking around at the bustling activity. "It's everything I imagined and more."

"And we're just getting started," another voice chimed in. It was Raj, one of India's top long-distance runners. He gave Rohan a firm handshake, his expression serious but welcoming. "We've got a lot riding on us, but I know you're going to make India proud, Rohan. You've earned this."

Rohan nodded, gratitude swelling in his chest. "Thanks, Raj. I'll do my best."

They chatted for a while, exchanging stories of their journeys and their experiences so far. It felt good to be among teammates who understood the pressure, the anticipation, and the drive that came with competing at this level. But even as Rohan smiled and laughed, a part of him remained distant, his thoughts drifting to the race ahead.

"Hey, are you alright?" Neha asked quietly, pulling him aside as the group dispersed. She gave him a searching look, her brow furrowed in concern. "You seem a little… distracted."

Rohan hesitated, then sighed. "I'm just—there's a lot on my mind."

Neha nodded slowly, her expression softening. "I get it. This is the biggest stage of our careers. It's normal to feel overwhelmed."

"It's not just that," Rohan admitted, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. He hadn't told many people about his father's condition, not wanting to bring more attention to it. But Neha had been a friend for years, and he trusted her.

"My father's in the hospital," he said quietly. "It's serious. I almost went back home, but I—"

Neha's eyes widened in shock. "Oh my god, Rohan, I had no idea. I'm so sorry. Is he—how is he doing now?"

"He's stable," Rohan said, his voice thick. "But it's touch and go. I feel like I should be there, but he told me to stay, to run my race. I just… I'm trying to stay focused, but it's hard."

Neha reached out, squeezing his arm gently. "I can't even imagine what you're going through. But you made the right choice. Your father would want you to be here. He's probably watching and rooting for you right now, more than anyone else."

Rohan swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah. I just wish I knew for sure that he's going to be okay."

Neha's gaze was compassionate, but firm. "He's a fighter, Rohan. Just like you. And you know what? You're going to make him so proud when you step onto that track. Whether you win or lose, he'll know that you're here, giving it everything you have."

Rohan managed a small smile. "Thanks, Neha. That means a lot."

She patted his arm, her smile encouraging. "Anytime. Now, go get some rest. You've got a race to prepare for."

---

The next day, Rohan woke early, his body humming with energy and nerves. He dressed in his training gear and made his way to the Olympic Stadium for a light workout. The stadium, when he arrived, took his breath away.

It was massive, far larger than any venue he had ever competed in before. The track stretched out in a perfect circle, its bright red surface gleaming under the morning sun. The stands loomed high above, capable of holding tens of thousands of spectators. And even though they were empty now, Rohan could almost hear the roar of the crowd that would fill them soon enough.

He stood at the edge of the track, staring out at the iconic Olympic rings painted on the infield. This was it. This was where everything he had trained for would be put to the test. The realization sent a shiver down his spine—part excitement, part fear.

"Feels different, doesn't it?"

Rohan turned to see Ms. Mehra approaching, her gaze sweeping over the stadium with the same awe and reverence that Rohan felt. She had been at countless competitions, but even she seemed taken aback by the sheer scale of the Olympic venue.

"Yeah," Rohan said quietly. "It's… it's huge."

"It's the Olympics," Ms. Mehra said, her tone laced with respect. "The biggest stage in the world. But you're ready for this, Rohan. You've trained for years for this moment. You've faced setbacks and doubts, and you've come out stronger every time."

Rohan looked down at his feet, then back up at the track. "I know. But it's still overwhelming. It's hard to believe I'm really here."

Ms. Mehra nodded thoughtfully. "That's normal. But remember what we talked about—focus on the race, not the stage. It doesn't matter how big the stadium is or how many people are watching. All that matters is how you run when the gun goes off."

Rohan took a deep breath, letting her words settle over him. She was right. He had to block out the noise, the expectations, the pressure. It was just a race. The biggest race of his life, yes, but still a race. He had run thousands of them before. This was no different.

"I'll try," he said softly. "But it's hard not to think about everything riding on this."

Ms. Mehra's gaze softened. "Rohan, you've already made everyone proud just by being here. Your family, your friends, your country—they're already celebrating you. The race is just a bonus. Run it for yourself, for your father, for the love of the sport. Don't let the expectations drown you."

Rohan nodded slowly, a sense of calm settling over him. He glanced around the stadium one last time, taking it all in—the track, the stands, the sky above. This was his moment